But This Time

Once upon a time

I forgot all the words

I forgot how to spell

I forgot my own name

I sat down in the kitchen and cried

and forgot why it mattered that I couldn’t remember

all the lesson I’d surely learned  somewhere

so I slept for a while then reinvented myself

with a nice backstory

All the scars I bear

were given simple reasons for being

every day fun reasons

like an ice skating fail

a cooking burn

wrecked my bike sailing down the trail with the wind in my hair

and I dance around the fuzzy memory of fear

The past has teeth

or so I’ve heard

but the teeth of the past

are just for show

to terrify

but that’s the only sharpness they own

Still I hide

Being foolish and being forgetful

they are not the same thing

but the path with that lovely tree

the one with the smooth bark  and silver leaves

I’ve been down this path before

riding fast with the wind in my hair

The sharp teeth tell me so

I pick up one of the silver leaves carpeting the ground

It’s green

The silver I saw in the distance, just a hint

Maybe a promise

The wind blows the leaves into a line

that disappears into the deep dark

and I know

answers are hidden

further along  the trail

Follow the trail to find my name

but this time, I’ll take a weapon

                                                        by Christina Lynn Lambert

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In the spirit of National Poetry Month, I checked out a couple books from the library including, I Shall Not Be Moved by Maya Angelou and Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe. In addition to the more famous authors, I want to find poems and short stories to read written by currently unknown writers and by people who don’t even consider themselves writers or poets but just felt they had something to say, a message, or an experience they needed to put down on paper because they couldn’t keep the words inside any longer. Really, everybody has a story, but sometimes they’ve forgotten their story is worth telling.

 

 

Temporary Armor

The fresh hell

of new grief and mistakes

rains down heavy

  Water turns to steel

shredding old wounds

Despair digs in

hauling me under

I reach through the muddy current

for one last lifeline

And the sound surrounds me

The drum’s heartbeat pulses through me

Each beat

a new breath

The guitar’s wail

morphs

into a low mellow rail

laying down a path out of hell

Brass notes soar

and I sing and scream along

letting each note

each word

stitch me back together

Until the last chord leaves me

back in the real

encased

in a temporary armor

by Christina Lynn Lambert

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My latest poem was inspired by my nearly finished work in progress, Tiger’s Last Chance, a paranormal romance in my Stranger Creatures series. In this story, the main character, Sean, is a recovering alcoholic and music is his lifeline when things get too intense for him to bear. In the beginning of the story, he travels from Texas to the fictional town of Great Oaks, Virginia to help Detective Nikki Jackson with an off-the-official record kind of investigation and ends up falling hard for the detective. But he can go back to Texas and forget about her, right?

March Madness Romance Ebook Giveaway

Update: Contest has ended. Spring is in the air! Well, it’s still pretty cold in Virginia but hopefully the sun will start shining soon and I can ditch my coat and snow boots. No matter the weather, every day is a good day to read a book.

Discover some fantastic authors and enter the March Madness Romance Ebook Giveaway for your chance to win an exciting romance ebook. Go to

https://www.constancebretes.com/news–things.html and enter for your chance to win!

March Madness Romance Ebook Giveaway (4)

The Romance Reviews’ online party features a fun game and a chance to win prizes!

Update: Contest has ended. The Romance Reviews is celebrating their 8th anniversary this March, 2019 with a month full of fun on their site at https://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php. Check it out to play the fun game and for chances to win books and other exciting prizes! Must register and be logged in on The Romance Reviews’ site before you can play the game. Registration is free and easy. No purchase necessary. Enjoy!

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Happy Valentine’s Day

Whether you love conventionally or outside the traditional lines, I hope you all have an amazing Valentine’s Day!

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Though Valentine’s Day has become a day to celebrate love by giving romantic gifts and cards (so basically a day to buy stuff), love can be shown in so many different ways: patience, time, encouragement, fixing something that needed fixing, and the list goes on. If you’re lucky enough to have people in your life who love you, whether they are friends, relatives, a sweetheart, whatever, don’t miss the chance to show them you appreciate them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slices of Horror

In honor of Women in Horror Month, I have a question- How do you prefer your spiders? A) hanging from a thread two inches in front of your face, or B) hidden under your pillow waiting for you to sleep. There are no wrong answers. It’s all about personal preference.

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There are plenty of horror tales, both long and short, penned by women. Some readers favor graphic and gory images. Some like subtle, slowly building drama while others like a good psychological thriller where the hero or heroine gets a good mental shredding.

Whether the story is full of sharp, terrifying images or takes a more subtle approach in its telling, what makes a horror story (or any story) great for me is how hard it hits me. The words don’t need to flow like song lyrics and the structure doesn’t need to be set to follow a specific 325 page formula. If I’m still thinking about the story days or weeks after I finish it, then the story definitely got to me, and I appreciate that.

Because I’m a little warped out, and also because I’m a writer, I like to find a small slice of horror in the most everyday, mundane sort of things. I like to twist the elements of something that seems sweet on first glance to show that the sweetness can be a shell, a candy coating hiding a whole lot of badness. The illusion of sweetness can be a fluffy pillow sitting on top of a fat spider waiting to crawl out onto an unsuspecting, exhausted woman as she has her first pleasant dream in months. I can’t help but ask the “what if” questions about what lies deeper, what kinds of things a shiny, glossy image blurs and works to hide.

Driving past a quaint suburban neighborhood, I imagine the possible strangeness that goes on behind the walls of the houses. And then I laugh at my simple theories because what goes on behind the walls of the houses I drive past could be so much weirder than I ever imagined. I want to read the true stories masquerading as fiction!

FEBRUARY CHALLENGE: Horror isn’t simple gore and guts. The genre can be so much more. So this month, I challenge you to write your own scary story. It can be a paragraph, a page, or even longer if you wish. Then, get together with a few friends and share stories. Remember the tradition of telling scary stories by the campfire at Scout camp? Like that, except, since we’re all grown, we can have a glass of wine or line up whiskey shots at our horror parties. And there’s no need to sit outside by an actual fire and get eaten by bugs. Best of all, you can use as many curse words and as much violence as you want in your story, because you make your own rules. Have fun terrorizing your characters and scaring your friends!